Non-eventful is hardly the appropriate word to use to describe things that have happened over these past three months. The roller-coaster ride persists, looping dangerously high and low and sometimes coming skin-close to crashing into the abyss of nothingness. And then, as hope seems wispier than fog, sunlight shines through and everything seems a little clearer, the ground unyielding below my feet. And I feel in that moment, I will know my heart again. But you never forget those eternal seconds that seem to envelope you completely in blackness.
I have never truly known what it feels like to be really empty on the inside. As much as I have experienced emotional pain physically, this Pain obliterates all others. It stabs and snags at every nerve and fiber of my being, making me want to tear my heart out, and at other times, leaves me ice-cold numb. Walking the line has been anything but easy.
I have never truly known what it feels like to be really empty on the inside. As much as I have experienced emotional pain physically, this Pain obliterates all others. It stabs and snags at every nerve and fiber of my being, making me want to tear my heart out, and at other times, leaves me ice-cold numb. Walking the line has been anything but easy.
I know our sleeping angel. She visits me in my dreams. Jon and I talk to her, wondering if she hears us. We tell her to be good, to be patient; we will see her again soon - whole, healthy and perfect.
I thank the heavens for Jon. He is my sunlight and my unyielding ground. He walks with me through the nothingness and holds my hand through the journey. I know he knows the Pain, for it lives inside him too. But this Pain, which takes so much from the core of us, this Pain rearranges the little shards of our stolen essence together again, more exquisite than ever. Like a beautiful glass mosaic, purposefully broken and then ingeniously made whole again, one tiny piece at a time.
